


Shark Boy

by onepercent



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Aquarium AU, M/M, Marine Biology AU, Sharks, enjolras cares a lot about sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepercent/pseuds/onepercent
Summary: Grantaire is the new guy at the aquarium. Enjolras is the selachologist whom he spills freshly dead squid onto.He's not very good with first impressions.





	Shark Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because i listened to a podcast about sharks and it was really interesting and that's about all of the explanation I can give you.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time they ran into each other, it was definitely Grantaire’s fault.

He was up to his ears in squid, and it really should have been grosser than it was by the smell alone, but he had seen his fair share of nasty things in his first few weeks at the aquarium and the squid juice slowly dripping down his hands was honestly the least of his worries at this point. He was supposed to have been down at the sea lion tank twenty minutes ago but had gotten caught up in a conversation with one of the other new employees, Bossuet, and so now he was running as fast as he could without squid flying out of the very large bucket in his arms. The very large bucket in question was also very heavy due to the copious amounts of dead squid overflowing from the top, which he had to crane his neck to see around. Because of this, he failed to notice the large crack on the floor (which Bossuet tripped on at least once a day) and promptly caught his toe on it, causing him to stumble. So caught up was he with trying to regain his balance and prevent the squids from all toppling out of the bucket that he also failed to notice the person walking very determinedly in his direction, who Grantaire then rammed directly into.

They both fell rather ungracefully, and it really wasn’t aided by the truly excessive amounts of squid that splattered absolutely everywhere. The bucket bounced a few times on the cement floors before rolling away, leaving a sad trail of chum juice in its wake, which was going to be a real bitch to clean up. Grantaire quickly stood up and finally noticed the guy he barrelled into. “Holy shit,” said Grantaire, frantically trying to help the man up, whose hands and knees kept slipping on the slick floor. “I am so sorry, I didn’t see you because of the, you know--” he gestures helplessly to the squid guts all over the ground--”and I was in a rush and I should have been paying more attention, I am so sorry, man--”

The guy finally got his bearings and gave his hand to Grantaire, who pulled him up to stand. “It’s fine,” he said curtly. “I should have seen you coming, I was just a little caught up in my own head…” He glanced around at the mess surrounding them and sighed just a little before steeling his expression into something resembling determination. (It was a good look, Grantaire had to admit. The guy somehow managed to be attractive even covered in slimy, sticky fish remains.) “If you’ll stay here, I’ll go grab a couple mops and we can get this cleaned up right quick.”

“You don’t have to do that,” protested Grantaire, although the man had already started to walk away. “I’m the one that spilled this shit everywhere, I can clean it up.”

The man scoffed and waved a hand flippantly. “You need to stay to make sure nobody comes by and slips. Plus, it seems like you have somewhere to be, and it’d be faster with two people.”

Grantaire frowned. He couldn’t argue with that--he checked his watch, and he was officially a half-hour late. He groaned. “Courfeyrac is going to kill me,” he said mournfully. Though Courfeyrac was rather, er, free-spirited, nobody at the aquarium tolerated lateness very well. They were all on a pretty strict schedule to make sure everything ran smoothly so the patrons wouldn’t have to witness any of the more unsightly goings-on behind the scenes.

The man perked up at that. “You’re working with Courfeyrac?” 

Grantaire shrugged. “Mostly, yeah. He’s showing me the ropes these first few weeks so I can start working full-time with the seals and sea lions.”

The man nodded slowly in recognition. “He’s mentioned you quite a bit, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name…”

“Rene Grantaire, but I all my friends call me R,” said Grantaire, holding his hand out to shake and putting on his most charming smile. Usually he would have more than a few qualms with shaking hands with a beautiful man while his hand was actually dripping in fish oil, but he figured the other guy’s hands were just as smelly and probably wouldn’t mind.

“Julien Enjolras,” said the guy, confirming Grantaire’s thoughts as he shook his hand. He had a firm grip and weirdly soft hands, but this observation was kind of ruined by their mutual stickiness. “...but I just go by Enjolras. I’m the resident selachologist.” 

Grantaire smiled blankly and blinked. “I have no idea what that means.”

 

“I take care of the sharks,” Enjolras replied with a sigh, because Grantaire really could not have been the first person to ask what the hell a selachologist is. 

“Ooh,” said Grantaire with a theatrical shudder. “Freaky. I could never do that kind of stuff. Too many teeth, you know? I’d constantly be afraid of my arms being bitten off.”

Enjolras frowned. “They’re actually not that scary once you get up close. I’ve only been bitten a few times, and it was totally my fault. There’s way more dangerous animals out there; sharks only get a bad reputation because of their appearance, and how the media can use it to convince people to be afraid of them.”

“The media can convince people to be afraid of them because they are legitimately terrifying,” Grantaire pointed out. “The beady eyes, the rows and rows of teeth, how fast they swim...you can’t tell me you’re not at least a little bit afraid of them. They’re an apex predator--it’s common sense for people to stay away from something dangerous like that.”

Enjolras crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg, which, while it did make him look a bit like a petulant child, also had the added effect of showing off his pretty glorious arms; he had rolled the sleeves up of the standard navy aquarium uniform, and the skin revealed was covered in ink. (Later, when Grantaire would have the chance to look at them up close while they were lazing around in bed together, he would see that each arm was filled with anemones and fish and, of course, sharks. Enjolras would point out each species and tell Grantaire all about its habitat and diet and lifespan and had it been anyone else, Grantaire would have tuned it out, but Enjolras’ voice was always so nice to listen to, especially if he was talking about something he cared about, and most of the time that something was sharks.) 

“Sure, they’re an apex predator, but so are orcas, and you don’t see people run away screaming from Free Willy,” retorted Enjolras. “It’s all these movies and television shows that know that sharks are basically completely harmless to a sensible person but continue to scare people into thinking they’re going to die if they ever get near one, just because it makes them the most money.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Their goal isn’t to educate, it’s to grab as much cash as possible. Honestly, you can’t be so naive as to think that…”

And so it continued. The squid laid forgotten on the floor as they argued and argued. Grantaire, despite it all, found himself starting to quite like talking to Enjolras, not just because he got to appreciate the other man’s flawless bone structure--though that was definitely an appreciated bonus--but because he was genuinely the most passionate person Grantaire had ever met. The guy argued as if he alone was the protector of all sharks, as if their unfavorable reputation outside the marine biology world was his to bear on his shoulders. Grantaire himself had never had a particular interest in sharks--he was legitimately afraid of them, for one, and he had always preferred the mammals, anyways--but as their conversation continued, he found himself actually starting to care a little bit more about their conservation, though he would never admit that to Enjolras. 

“I just can’t see how you can work at an aquarium and not care about every animal in it,” Enjolras was saying, gesturing wildly. “Sharks are as valuable as the plankton or the corals or anything else to the ecosystem and if we keep stigmatizing them--”

“Grantaire!” came a call from the other side of the hall. Courfeyrac strided up to meet them, looking a little worse for wear and panting a just little. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I thought you were going to meet me like an hour ago at the sea lion tank and I was going to go find you because maybe you got lost but then Combeferre got on my ass for losing Enjolras and--” He looked around at the floor, still covered in sad, smelly squid remains. “What the hell happened here?”

Grantaire and Enjolras both started to talk at the same time, but Courfeyrac interrupted them both before they could get too far. “Whatever. Let’s just grab some mops and we can clean this before they start to stick to the floor.”

Courfeyrac quickly returned with cleaning supplies, and clean they did. 

And if Grantaire used this opportunity to ogle Enjolras’ (very shapely) ass as he bent over to pick up some of the larger chunks of meat--well, he could keep that to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments mean the absolute world to me and I would really appreciate it if you would drop some if you liked it, even a little!


End file.
